CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
SHOWS HOW THE LADY OF THE INSTITUTE DISCOURSES TO THE SERGEANT, HOWJACK-TARS GO OUT ON THE SPREE, AND HOW MUSIC CONQUERS WARRIORS.
"It seems wonderful to me, madam," said Sergeant Hardy, looking roundthe lady's room with an admiring gaze, "how quickly you have got thingsinto working order here. When I remember that last year this place wasa heap of rubbish, it seems like magic."
"Ah! the work of God on earth seems magical the more we reflect on it,"returned the lady. "The fact that our Institute was conceived, planned,and carried into successful operation by an invalid lady, in spite ofdiscouragement, and, at first, with inadequate means, is itself littleshort of miraculous, but what is even more surprising is the fact thatthe Government, which began by throwing cold water on her Portsmouthwork, has ended by recognising it and by affording us every facilityhere in Alexandria."
"Well, you see, madam, I suppose it's because they see that we soldiersand sailors likes it, an' it does a power o' good--don't you think?"
"No doubt, but whatever may be the reason, Sergeant, we are verythankful for the encouragement. I suppose you have heard what a grandoccasion our opening day was?"
"No, madam, I haven't. You see, away at Suakim we was so constantlytaken up with the attentions of Osman Digna that we had little time foranything but eatin' and sleepin' when we wasn't on sentry an' fightin',so that we often missed bits of news. Was there a great turn-out o'men?"
"Indeed there was," returned the lady, with animation; "and not only ofmen, but of all the Alexandrian notables. It was on the 23rd ofFebruary last (1885) that our Institute was opened by Major-GeneralLennox, V.C., C.B., who was in command of the garrison. This was notthe first time by any means that the soldiers had paid us a visit. Anumber of men, who, like yourself, Sergeant Hardy, sympathise with ourwork in its spiritual aspects, had been frequently coming to see how wewere getting on, and many a pleasant hour's prayer and singing we hadenjoyed with them, accompanied by our little harmonium, which had beensent to us by kind friends in England; and every Sunday evening we hadhad a little service in the midst of the shavings and carpenters'benches.
"But on this grand opening day the men came down in hundreds, and agreat surprise some of them got--especially the sceptical among them.The entrance was decorated with palms. At the further end of thereading-room the trophy of Union Jacks and the Royal Standard, which yousee there now, was put up by a band of Jack-tars who had come to help usas well as to see the fun. Over the trophy was our text, `In the nameof the Lord will we set up our banners,' for we liked to feel that wehad taken possession of this little spot in Egypt for God--and webelieve that it will always be His.
"Everything was bright and hearty. There were about five hundredsoldiers and sailors, and between two and three hundred officers andcivilians of all nationalities. On the platform we had Osman Pasha--"
"Ha!" interrupted the sympathetic sergeant, "I only wish we could havehad Osman Digna there too! It would do more to pacify the Soudan thankilling his men does!"
"I daresay it would," responded the lady with a laugh, "but havepatience, Hardy; we shall have him there yet, and perhaps the Mahditoo--or some future grand occasion. Well, as I was saying, we hadOsman, the Governor of Alexandria, on our platform, and a lot ofbig-wigs that you know nothing about, but whose influence was ofimportance, and whose appearance went far to make the place look gay.Of course we had music, beginning with `God save the Queen,' andspeeches--brilliant as well as heavy; sententious and comic--like allother similar gatherings, and the enthusiasm was unbounded. How couldit be otherwise with sailors to cheer and soldiers to back them up? Andyou may be sure that in such a meeting the enthusiasm about theundertaking did not fail to extend to the `Soldiers' Friend' who hadoriginated the whole. In short, it was a splendid success."
"Of course it was," said the sergeant, with emphasis; "first, because ofGod's blessing, an', second, because the Institoot was greatly needed.Why, madam, if it wasn't for this place the thousands of soldiersstationed here, not to mention the sailors, would have no place to go tospend their leave and leisure time but the drinkin' dens o' the town; an_you_ know well, though p'r'aps not so well as I do, what terribleplaces these are, where men are tempted, fleeced, debauched, andsometimes murdered."
"Quite true, Hardy. Did you hear of the case that occurred just twodays ago? A sergeant of one of the regiments, I forget which, afterpaying his fare to a donkey-boy, turned quietly to walk away, when thescoundrel felled him with a stick and robbed him of one pound 10shillings. The case is before the law-court now, and no doubt therobber will receive a just reward.
"Well, as I was remarking, the opening day carried us to high tide, soto speak, and there has been no ebb from that day to this. One comicalincident, however, occurred just at the beginning, which might have doneus damage. The day after the opening all was prepared for the receptionof our soldier and sailor friends. The tables were arranged with booksand games, the writing-table with pens, ink, and blotting-paper, and thebar with all sorts of eatables, magnificent urns, coloured glass,etcetera. About one o'clock William, our barman, tasted the coffee.His usual expression of self-satisfaction gave place to one of horror.He tasted the coffee again. The look of horror deepened. He ran to theboiler, and the mystery was cleared up. The boiler had been filled withsalt-water! Our Arab, Ibraim, who carries up seawater daily to fill ourbaths, had filled the boiler with the same. Luckily there was time tocorrect the mistake, and when our friends came trooping in at fouro'clock they found the coffee quite to their taste.
"You know very well," continued the superintendent, "our rules never toforce religion on any of our customers, our object being to _attract_ byall the legitimate means in our power. We have our Bible-classes,prayer-meetings, temperance soirees, and the like, distinct--as atPortsmouth--from the other advantages of the Institute; and are quitecontent if some, who come at first from mere curiosity or for theenjoyment of temporal good things, should afterwards continue to comefrom higher and spiritual motives. But if our military friends preferto read our papers and books, and play our games, and use our bar, theyare at perfect liberty to do so, without what I may style religiousinterference. It's all fair and above-board, you see. We fullyrecognise the freedom of will that God has bestowed on man. If youdon't care for our spiritual fare you may let it alone. If you relishit--there it is, and you are welcome. Yet we hold by our right to winmen if we can. In point of fact, we have been very successful alreadyin this way, for our motive power from beginning to end is Love.
"One of our most helpful soldier friends--a sergeant--has broughtseveral men to the Saviour, who are now our steady supporters. One ofthese men, whom our sergeant was the means of bringing in, was aprofessed unbeliever of good standing and ability. The first time hewas prevailed on to come to a prayer-meeting, he sat bolt upright whilewe knelt, being a straightforward sort of man who refused to pretendwhen he could not really pray. He is now a happy follower of Jesus.
"Our large rooms are constantly filled with soldiers, some chatting,some making up for past privations by having a good English meal, andothers reading or playing games. Just now happens to be our quietesthour, but it won't be long before we have a bustling scene."
As if to verify the lady's words there came through the doorways at thatmoment a sound of shouting and cheering, which caused all the staff ofthe Institute to start into active life.
"There they come!" exclaimed the lady, with an intelligent smile, as shehurried from the room, leaving Hardy to follow at a pace that was moreconsistent with his dignity--and, we may add, his physical weakness.
The shouts proceeded from a party of sailors on leave from one of theironclads lying in the harbour. These, being out for the day--on aspree as some of them styled it--had hired donkeys, and come in a bodyto the Institute, where they knew that food of the best, dressed inBritish fashion, and familiar games, were to be had, along with Britishcheer and sympathy.
Wh
en Hardy reached the door he found the place swarming withblue-jackets, trooping up at intervals on various animals, but none onfoot, save those who had fallen off their mounts and were trying to geton again.
"They're all donkeyfied together," remarked a sarcastic old salt--notone of the party--who stood beside Hardy, looking complacently on, andsmoking his pipe.
"They don't steer as well on land as on sea," replied Hardy.
"'Cause they ain't used to such craft, you see--that's w'ere it is,sarjint," said the old salt, removing his pipe for a moment. "Just lookat 'em--some comin' along sidewise like crabs, others stern foremost.W'y, there's that grey craft wi' the broad little man holdin' on to itstail to prevent his slidin' over its head. I've watched that grey craftfor some minutes, and its hind propellers have bin so often in the airthat it do seem as if it was walkin' upon its front legs. Hallo! I wassure he'd go down by the head at last."
The donkey in question had indeed gone down by the head, and rolledover, pitching its rider on his broad shoulders, which, however, seemednone the worse for the fall.
"Ketch hold of his tail, Bill," cried another man, "and hold his sterndown--see if that won't cure his plungin'. He's like a Dutchman in across sea."
"Keep clear o' this fellow's heels, Jack, he's agoin' to fire anotherbroadside."
"If he does he'll unship you," cried Jack, who was himself at the samemoment unshipped, while the owner of the donkey, and of the otherdonkeys, shouted advice, if nothing worse, in Arabic and broken English.
In a few minutes the sailors "boarded" the Institute, and drew the wholeforce of the establishment to the bar in order to supply the demand.
"Ah! thin, ye've got Irish whisky, haven't ye?" demanded a facetiousseaman.
"Yes, plenty, but we call it coffee here!" answered the equallyfacetious barman, whose satellites were distributing hot and cold drinkswith a degree of speed that could only be the fruit of much practice.
"You'll have to be jolly on mild swipes," said one; "no tostikatin'liquors allowed, Dick."
"H'm!" growled Dick.
"Got any wittles here?" demanded another man, wiping his lips with hissleeve.
"Yes, plenty. Sit down and order what you want."
"For nothin'?" asked the tar.
"For _next_ to nothing!" was the prompt reply. Meanwhile, those whoseappetites were not quite so urgent had distributed themselves about theplace, and were already busy with draughts, billiards, etcetera, whilethose who were of more sedate and inquiring temperament were deep in thecolumns of the English papers and magazines.
"I say, Fred Thorley, ain't it bang up?" remarked a sturdy little man,through a huge slice of cake, with which he had just filled his mouth.
"Fuss-rate!" responded Fred, as he finished a cup of coffee at a draughtand called for more. "Didn't I tell you, Sam, that you'd like it betterthan the native grog-shops?"
"If they'd on'y got bitter beer!" sighed Sam.
"They've got better beer," said his friend; "try some ginger-pop."
"No thankee. If I can't git it strong, let's at least have it hot.But, I say, what's come o' the lobsters? Don't seem to be many about.I thought this here Institoot was got up a-purpose for _them_.
"So it was, lad, includin' us; but you don't suppose that because _you_are out on the spree, everybody else is. They're on dooty just now.Wait a bit an' you'll see plenty of 'em afore long."
"Are all that come here Blue Lights?" asked Sam, with a somewhat dolefulvisage.
"By no manner o' means," returned his friend, with a laugh; "tho' forthe matter o' that they wouldn't be worse men if they was, but many of'em are no better than they should be, an' d'ee know, Sam, there aresome of 'em actually as great blackguards a'most as yourself!"
"There's some comfort in that anyhow," returned Sam, with a pleasantsmile, "for I hates to be pecooliar. By the way, Fred, p'r'aps they maybe able to give you some noos here, if you ax 'em, about your friendJack Molloy. _He_ was a Blue Light, wasn't he?"
"Not w'en I know'd 'im, but he was a fuss-rate seaman an' a good friend,though he _was_ fond of his glass, like yourself, Sam."
It chanced that at this point Sergeant Hardy, in moving about the place,taking profound interest in all that he saw, came within earshot of thetwo friends, to whom he at once went up and introduced himself as afriend of Jack Molloy.
"Indeed," said he, "Molloy and I fought pretty near to each other inthat last affair under General McNeill, so I can give you the latestnews of him."
"Can you, old man? Come, sit down here, an' let's have it then," saidThorley. "Jack was an old messmate o' mine. What'll you take to drink,mate?"
"Nothing, thankee. I'm allowanced by the doctor even in the matter o'tea and coffee," said the sergeant. "As to bein' an' old man--well, Iain't much older than yourself, I daresay, though wounds and sicknessand physic are apt to age a man in looks."
Sitting down beside the sailors, Hardy told of the great fight atMcNeill's zereba, and how Molloy and others of his friends had gone torescue a comrade and been cut off. He relieved Fred's mind, however, bytaking the most hopeful view of the matter, as he had previouslyrelieved the feelings of Marion. And then the three fell to chatting onthings in general and the war in particular.
"Now don't this feel homelike?" said Sam, looking round the room withgreat satisfaction. "If it wasn't for the heat I'd a'most think we wasin a temperance coffee-house in old England."
"Or owld Ireland," chimed in a sailor at the neighbouring table.
"To say naething o' auld Scotland," added a rugged man in red hair, whosat beside him.
"Well, messmate," assented Fred, "it _do_ feel homelike, an' no mistake.Why, what ever is _that_?"
The sailor paused, and held up a finger as if to impose silence while helistened, but there was no need to enforce silence, for at that momentthe sweet strains of a harmonium were heard at the other end of the longroom, and quietude profound descended on the company as a rich baritonevoice sang, with wonderful pathos, the familiar notes and words of"Home, Sweet Home!"
Before that song was finished many a warrior there had to fightdesperately with his own spirit to conceal the fact that his eyes werefull of tears. Indeed, not a few of them refused to fight at all, but,ingloriously lowering their colours, allowed the tell-tale drops tocourse over their bronzed faces, as they thought of sweethearts andwives and friends and home circles and "the light of other days."
Blue Lights: Hot Work in the Soudan Page 21